


Customs

by DahYelTal



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Misuse of Human Customs, Misuse of Vulcan Customs, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Spock is a Closet Flirt (Star Trek), Unreliable Narrator (Bones)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:40:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DahYelTal/pseuds/DahYelTal
Summary: During one of the weekly chess matches he attends with Jim and Spock, Leonard accidentally brushes Spock's bangs back into place before he could even think about what he was doing. He blamed human customs and promptly ran out the door. Spock has customs of his own that he'd like to share.
Relationships: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Comments: 31
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is complete and is going through the beta process. I will update this fic every Thursday and Saturday so stay tuned!

Leonard had no idea why he did it or what prompted him to. It’s not like he’s Jim, for whom touch was nearly on par with speech as a communication tool. No, Len was a talker and a doer, not a toucher. Sure, he relaxed a bit around Jim, and his medical training told him how often and how hard to offer a quick, supportive pat on the shoulder or an elbow touch. But this? No. This was something he hadn’t done in years, and it came out of nowhere.

Which, of course, is why Len strung the words “Sorry, human custom! Oh, look at the time, I have reports to do!” together at breakneck speed and bolted out of Jim’s room just as fast. His brain clearly wasn’t working, but he at least agreed with his body’s move to abort the hell out of the situation. Jim would have words with him later, he could survive that, but Spock…

If Spock asked why it was a human custom to brush his perfectly groomed bangs back into place after he picked up an errant pawn that had rolled off the table, he was done for.

Breathing heavily as he waited for the turbolift, Len looked over his shoulder to make sure his annoying blond friend wasn’t following. He highly doubted that Spock would care to leave the game, but Jim certainly would. Thankfully, he was alone in the corridor, but that didn’t last long. He walked into the ‘lift only to find it occupied by Lieutenant Uhura. _Well, isn’t that just great… Stuck with Spock’s ex after I just did something that’s probably Vulcan foreplay with him. Dammit, did I make skin contact?! Oh Lord._

“Dr. McCoy?” Uhura asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “Are you alright? You look flushed.”

Len shook his head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.” He took note of his posture and straightened it before turning to the young woman who was shaping up to be one of his better friends. “I, uhh, just have a lot of reports to get to an’ I’m not lookin’ forward to it, is all.”

Uhura looked skeptical, clearly analyzing his words with her carefully honed linguistic skills. He was a goner, he knew it. Len hoped that it was a quick and painless death, but she only nodded and returned to a neutral position along the ‘lift’s wall. “I heard about the incident in engineering. I don’t envy you having to write reports on that.”

Leonard got off first, at medical, and wished Uhura good evening with a wave. She returned it with a smile, probably the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen, and he felt a little better because of it. But then he remembered how much he’d screwed up, and his mood went right back to the gutter.

_The hell did I go and do that for? I know better than to touch a damn Vulcan! Especially_ that _damn Vulcan!_ Len continued his self deprecation for a few more meters before he tucked himself safely inside the sanctum of his office, where a message was waiting for him.

// Bones! Thanks for your help--Operation Distract Spock was a success! Not only did he lose, he lost _bad_. //

Leonard didn’t care for chess enough to know the rest of the details Jim gave him about his win, but why was he messaging him when--oh no. At the end of the message, right before Jim asked him why he ran out before seeing his plan succeed, was the second shoe dropping:

// Btw you forgot your PADD, Spock is bringing it to you. //

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Why? God _dammit,_ Len!” And, of course, that was when Spock decided to enter his office, which Len had forgotten to lock.

“Doctor?” Spock asked. His brows were ever so slightly furrowed, indicating that he was confused. _Wait, when did I learn to read the hobgoblin so well?_ “Are you well? While I’m accustomed to your emotional outbursts, you usually save verbally berating yourself in the third person for more extreme issues. Did something happen in the time it took me to get from Jim’s quarters to your office?”

_And now he looks concerned. Fuck!_ Leonard took a breath and stalked over to Spock, sticking his hand out for the PADD. “I'‘m fine, just mad that I forgot this and wasn’t lookin’ forward to marchin’ back up there and fetching it. Thanks for bringing it down here, Spock.”

Spock nodded and handed the device over, but he held onto it a second longer than he should have, and there was a bit of a tug. _Oh my God, that STARTLED him. What?_

“You appear to be in a heightened emotional state, Leonard. I am concerned. If this is about that… human custom from earlier, you need not mind it. My mother often did this, it is an expression of care. While other Vulcans might find it an offense to our culture, I do not.”

“Are you... blushing?” Leonard clapped a hand over his mouth as soon as he realized he asked that out loud, instead of just thinking it.

Spock’s eyes narrowed. “No,” he said flatly. And maybe he wasn’t, after all, Len didn’t think of turning up the lights beyond the dim, but still perfectly functional setting he had them on. “Leonard, your behavior is erratic. You are my friend, and I do not wish to leave you until I’m assured of your emotional state.”

Leonard could see that this was absolutely true, even if it made him uncomfortable to know he could read his Vulcan friend so well. He nodded and took a step back to rest his rear on his desk. He didn’t know how to handle this, he didn’t know why he did the _thing_ earlier, and he certainly didn’t know what he wanted to happen now. Len ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it in the process.

“Ah,” Spock breathed as he reached for Leonard’s hair, “allow me.” Len felt his Vulcan friend’s hands in his hair, carefully arranging it back into his usual professional look. “Oh, my apologies, you are not on shift,” was all the warning he got before Spock started spiking it exactly the way he would after a long day and getting ready for an evening of relaxation.

“Did I perform the human custom adequately? You appear to be blushing.” There was a slight curve to the left corner of Spock’s lips as his left eyebrow rose.

Leonard gaped, scowled, fisted his hands at his side, and looked down. “‘m fine, really. Thank you, Spock, but I really need to get to these reports. Have a good night.”

He couldn’t even look at Spock as the Vulcan left him alone in his office. Len felt like he was drowning while being burned alive. The interaction didn’t make sense. If it was anyone else, he would have thought that Spock was flirting with him. But Vulcans didn’t flirt, did they? He knew their friendship had been growing steadily since Altamid, but this was _courtship_.

_Courtship_. Len flopped back into his chair and pulled a knee to his chest, draped about as awkwardly over the arms as he could manage. He sucked in his cheek and rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling. _Do I_ like _Spock? I mean, he’s… Spock. What does liking Spock even mean?_

Leonard allowed himself a half hour to indulge in his fantasies before he shut them down. He really did have reports to write.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock may have customs of his own, but Leonard sure as hell doesn't know 'em. Luckily Uhura knows everything and was willing to help...kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! I'm so glad y'all are enjoying this! I'll be spending time after Saturday's post to respond to the love. My username is Vulcan and roughly translates to the study of binary stars...which I do! Days are for research, nights are for writing, and weekends are for me. :)

The next morning, Leonard found himself at his usual table with Jim talking his ear off about the chess match the night before. It still amazed him that the kid could go from dead asleep--drool and all--to alert and perky after just one ring of his alarm. Len, on the other hand, needed coffee strong enough to wake the dead in order to get him to a semi-functioning state. (Barring medical emergencies, of course. Hearing that alarm was more than enough to jumpstart his system.)

Len was so tired and lost in his oatmeal, nodding along to whatever Jim was going on about, that he didn’t even notice Spock joining their table until a small bowl of peaches was placed in front of him. He looked down at the surprisingly good looking slices and then up to Spock. “I could have told you the synthesizer doesn’t do peaches justice before you wasted your time on ‘em, Spock.” He gave himself a mental pat on the back for managing to be somewhat cheerful in the delivery, despite the lack of coffee. (One cup was never enough, no matter how strong.)

Spock nudged the bowl closer. “I adjusted the programming to make their texture and taste more like their natural counterparts.”

Lifting a brow and staring directly at Spock in mild disbelief, he caved--they did smell a lot better--and pinched a slice between his fingers. _Did Spock’s eyes just widen a bit? Oh, right, the thing about hands. Probably thinks this is disgusting. Ah, well._ He slurped the slice into his mouth without a single care and bit into it, expecting only a mild difference, but found it to be a near perfect match to the peaches he grew up with.

It was probably the combination of lack of coffee and sleep and being trapped in a tin can away from Earth for so long, but Len felt his eyes start to water as he chewed and swallowed thoughtfully. After finishing the first slice, he took a cautious breath, blinked away the tears, and looked up at Spock with a genuine smile. “Thank you, Spock. These are perfect.”

Jim, for his part, was staring at the interaction with his mouth gaping, but Len wasn’t sure what it was about. He knew that Jim would fill him in on whatever was going through his brain the second Spock walked away, though. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be until much later, ideally _after_ \--long after--Spock joined them for breakfast. Even if he wasn’t much of a morning conversationalist, he was more than capable of watching Spock and Jim talk, and that felt enough for him.

Unfortunately, Spock had other plans. The tall Vulcan nodded and returned his hands to behind his back in his customary parade rest. “I am gratified that they were to your liking. As you reminded me of a human custom last night, I wanted to introduce you to a Vulcan one.” With that, Spock left both of them with a polite nod and exited the mess.

“What the hell Vulcan custom involves giving someone fruit?” Len groused, turning to Jim. “You know any?”  
  
Jim shook his head and reached his grubby hand for a slice of peach, which Len quickly slapped away. “Do NOT get between a Georgian and their peaches or you will lose a hand, Jimmy!” And Leonard meant it, but after a few delicious slices with those puppy dog eyes staring back at him, he caved.  Len caved and handed one of the peach slices over to Jim, who practically had a foodgasm judging by the moan he made.

“Get outta here with that, Jim, we’re in public.”

“Whatever, they were good! I wonder if he can fix some of the other foods.”

“I hope you mean other fruits and vegetables, _Captain_.”

Jim winced. “Yeah. Sure, sure. Anyway, we should ask Uhura what giving someone fruit means. If anyone would know, it’d be her. She did date him for, like, five years.”

Len felt a pang in his chest at that, but he didn’t know why. He supported their relationship wholeheartedly, he thought the two worked well together--even if he had given her a radioactive tracking device as a gift. He knew they parted amicably for good a few months after rekindling their relationship on Yorktown, and… how did he feel back then?

“Ah! Speak of the gorgeous devil, hey Uhura!” Jim shouted across the mess and waved his arm so frantically that his uniform shirt started riding up. _Like an overeager golden retriever, that kid,_ Len thought with a laugh.

Uhura must be in a good mood, because she immediately went over and sat down with them, wishing them both a good morning. “Well, this is unusual, not that I mind. What’s up, Captain?”

“Please, call me Jim, we’re not on shift yet. Bones and I have a question on Vulcan culture and you’re the only not-Spock expert on board.”

“There are--”

“The only not-Spock expert that we _trust_ ,” Leonard added quickly.

“Fair enough. What do you need help with?”

Leonard was about to explain but Jim got to it first.  _ A yappy golden retriever... _ “What does giving someone fruit mean? Spock said it was a Vulcan custom and then just left.”

Uhura immediately stopped poking at her food and looked between the two of them with a growing grin, “That depends. Which one of you got the fruit?”

Leonard pointed to himself silently while Jim jerked his thumb at him. “This guy. Right here. So what does it mean?”

“Well,” Uhura said as she leaned back and studied Leonard, “giving fruit is typically used as a way of conveying deep affection.” Her eyes flicked to Jim and then back to Leonard. “If it was given to Jim, I’d say that this was a familial affection. But since it was given to Leonard…” Uhura trailed off, tipped her head from one side to the next, and started eating without continuing.

“What? Uhura, what do you mean? Like, friendship affection?” The woman shook her head. “Doctor-commander affection?” Another no. “Wha--”

Jim cut him off with a shout. “OH MY GOD!” He immediately quieted, leaned in, and waited for both Uhura and Leonard to follow suit before continuing. “Does Spock _like_ Bones?”

Uhura shrugged. “They’ve acted like an old married couple since even before we broke up, but you’d have to ask him that. I won’t tell you anything I may or may not know.” She took a few more bites of her food while the two men stared in silence. “How did you eat the fruit he gave you, Leonard?”

“What’s that have to do with anything? I just grabbed it an’ ate it. Spock prolly thought it was disgusting since I used my hands, but I can’t help how I was raised any more than he can.” Len was only slightly defensive - the rest was posturing in order to avoid the knot of excitement building in his gut. _That’s not excitement, that’s the opposite of excitement. That’s coffee doing what coffee does best._

“You,” Uhura emphasized, pointing her fork at Leonard, “made whatever Spock was trying to do _sexual_. Be careful what you do with your hands around Vulcans, although I doubt Spock thought you knew what you were doing.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Nyota,” Len said with a grumble. “But thank you kindly for your time. The peaches were really good, though, and you should be able to get some from the food synths here now. He said he reprogrammed the synth.”

Uhura smiled, finished the last bits of her food, and nodded. “Anytime, gentlemen, but you should have a talk with Spock sooner rather than later.” The three said their goodbyes, Len and Jim finished their own breakfasts, and then they parted ways to their respective shift stations. It was going to be a long shift, that was for sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An incident in the science labs injures Spock's hands, which Leonard treats without the protective psi-barrier that he normally uses when dealing with touch telepaths. Spock wants to talk about it and share yet another Vulcan custom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is here, I hope you all enjoy it! Chapter 4 will be the meatiest one of the five and will be posted on Thursday with the last chapter posted a week from today. Depending on betaing, I'll be debuting my next Spones fic either this Monday or next Monday. (Also complete--and a lot longer.)

If the incident in engineering the day before hadn’t already made Leonard’s week hell, the incident in the science labs sure did. From what he gathered, there was a small explosion during one of the tests for a new extraction technique that set off several _other_ small explosions. Most of the incoming personnel had minor cuts that needed to be flushed and regened, but there was one major injury: Spock.

Len had enough lead time to prepare a station while Spock was being transported. He made sure to sanitize his hands and forearms along with his entire array of equipment with both the spray and the light. If the chatter was to be believed, Spock had attempted to grab one of the devices before it exploded, and ended up having it go off right in his hands. Len shuddered as he thought about how painful that must have been for his Vulcan friend.

This was no time to get lost in thought, however, and Leonard stood strong as he marched over to the door and barked out orders. They received Spock less than a minute later, and everyone on his assisting team was ready to take care of Spock's injury, while the others knew to take care of the rest.

Leonard glanced at Chapel with a nod and then examined Spock with his medical tricorder. “Well, you look like you’re having a bad day. Anything you can tell us that would be helpful?”

Spock, who looked utterly composed other than taking slightly heavier breaths and, y’know, his bloody hands, calmly stated exactly what Leonard needed to know to paint the full picture that his tricorder--no matter how advanced it was--couldn’t. He and Chapel worked for nearly three hours before the final pass of the dermal regenerator made its way over Spock’s skin.

Spock’s skin. On Spock’s hand. That Leonard had been holding. With his own bare hand. He started to panic, but Spock stopped him by placing his free hand on Leonard’s briefly. “I wish to discuss this later. I must go back to my quarters and enter a healing trance to ensure that the healing process is completed.”

Leonard started forming a snarky retort, but Spock cut him off. “That is not to say that your care is less than impeccable, it is merely a routine I use in order to shorten the recovery time even further.”

God help him, Leonard knew what he was feeling now. He took a shaky breath but couldn’t find the words he wanted, so he just nodded. Spock seemed to accept it, released his hand, and stood up off the bio-bed to carefully stretch his arms, hands, and fingers. “I will be in my quarters until you get off shift. Would you be amenable to meeting in your quarters afterwards? I will prepare dinner for us.”

Len’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. _Did he just…?_ His southern manners were offended and he wasn’t about to let it slide. “Why ‘n the hell would you come over to my place and be the one to fix dinner? Recoverin’ from an injury no less! My momma didn’t raise no--”

Spock held up the hand that didn’t receive the brunt of the explosion, “It is a Vulcan custom for guests to fix a meal for their host. I wish to thank you for your service today.”

“Oh,” Len said, disappointed. _That’s all?_ “Well, I won’t say no to a home-cooked meal, I suppose.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound too dejected, but he’d be fooling himself if he didn’t recognize that he was trailing off. When his doctor brain kicked in, he was able to recover some of his confidence. “But only if your hands check out! I don’t want you overusing them, even if _you_ think they’re fully healed. I’m the doctor here.”

“Leonard, I will _know_ when my hands are fully healed. I assure you, making dinner for us will not compromise the integrity of your work in healing my hands. Your work can stand up to an hour of cooking.”

“Are you complimentin’ me?” Leonard questioned as he crossed his arms and gave Spock a skeptical once-over.

Spock tilted his head to the side and the left side of his mouth ticked, briefly, slightly upward. “I believe I am. Do you accept the invitation?”

“Yeah, sure, as long as you don’t mind me invitin’ myself over sometime and fixin’ you up a meal in return.” Did Leonard feel giddy? This sure felt at least giddy-adjacent.

That giddy feeling didn’t die down until long after Spock had left and the rest of the scientists were patched up and sent on their way. When Leonard was just about finished with the cleanup (a good doctor always helps his team clean up, after all), he heard the doors to sickbay swish open. He inwardly groaned and turned around, trying not to look too pissed at whatever dumb incident he had to deal with next.

But it wasn’t a patient.

It was Uhura, and she had a scary look of determination on her face.

Was she angry? _The hell did I do now?_

Uhura gestured toward his office and stalked inside, and Leonard meekly followed. He’d always been scared of strong women, his mother and sister and ex-wife all worked together to make him that way, but this was the first time he’d been on the receiving end of Uhura’s god-like levels of intimidation. She didn’t exactly look angry, but he recognized a woman on a mission and wisely kept his mouth shut.

“I swear to all the Gods, Leonard, if you hurt him, I will _end_ you.”

“Yes ma’am,” Len responded automatically. It took his brain a few moments to process what she'd said, however, and once it did his brows furrowed and his head tilted to the side. “Wait, what?”

“You’re going on a date with Spock. If you hurt him, I will find the most painful way I can possibly find to murder you.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, darlin’, but…” Leonard stopped again before a grin wormed its way across his face. “I’m going on a date with Spock? This thing tonight is a _date_?”

Uhura blinked rapidly, and Leonard thought he might have actually caught her off guard. “I didn’t know you were capable of being this cute, so maybe, just maybe, I can trust you not to hurt Spock.”

Len put his hand over his heart. “I promise you, Nyota, I would never intentionally hurt Spock. As a doctor, as a friend, as a maybe-even-more-than-that, I swear it.” And he meant it, even if this was all coming way too fast and he was getting lightheaded at the thoughts swirling rapidly in his brain. “I worry about not bein’ good enough, though,” he added shyly.

“Spock is perfectly capable of making that decision for himself, Len. Trust him.” Uhura gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before leaving him to his reports. Which, unfortunately, were going to take at least double the time they took the night before. Lord help him if any more incidents rolled in. There was no way he was going to miss this date.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard and Spock have their first date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoy this chapter! It was a lot of fun to write--although not quite as fun as the next and final chapter, which will be posted on Saturday. New Spones fic starting on Monday!

Thankfully there were no more incidents, and Leonard managed to get all of the reports done before his shift ended. He even left a few minutes early rather than the usual few minutes late, drawing a confused look from Chapel.

“What are you up to? You don’t usually end a shift early…”

“Ah, Christine, my favorite nurse!” Len exclaimed. “I’ve apparently got a date to get to.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“Yep.” There was a definite skip in his step as he waltzed toward the door. “Give yourself a break now, too, y’hear? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Leonard didn’t even wait for a response before he was out the door and headed for the turbolift. He was excited. He didn’t know what to expect, and this was the first date he’d been on since… well, he didn’t want to think about that. Instead Len put on a happy face--which appeared to unnerve a number of ensigns he passed--while he strolled back to his room with a spring in his step.

Once he got inside, Len sent a message to Spock to let him know he was in his room a little early, but planned on taking a shower. He figured that since he’d had a long day, he would indulge in a quick water shower to soothe his nerves. And it did the trick, right up until he exited the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

“Ah! Jesus Christ! What are you doin’ here?!” Leonard squealed and ducked around the privacy screen of his bedroom area.

“I assure you, I am not a Christian deity,” Spock stated with… was that snark? _He just snarked at me!_ “Did you not wish me to come over?” He looked confused again.

Len peeked his head out, not sure why he suddenly found modesty to be of the utmost importance. “I, uhh, no?”

“You informed me that you were taking a shower, was that not a passive request to come over?” Spock averted his gaze but didn’t head for the door just yet. “My previous male partners had a pattern in which--”

“No, Spock, you’re OK.” _Wait, he’s had male partners before?_ “I can see how that could be misinterpreted, and I also know plenty of people have that communication style.” Len paused and thumbed at his lip in thought. “I guess I use it, too, but don’t really have a pattern for it… Do you have a preferred style?”

Spock returned his eyes to Leonard’s. “I prefer direct communication, as it is more efficient and leaves less room for misunderstanding. If you would like me to leave and come back--”

“No! No, ‘s fine. You can stay and, uh, get started, if you want. I’ll just finish getting dressed back here.” Len scampered back to his dresser before he changed his mind and ran back to take a good look at Spock. “You’re not in uniform.”

“Even Vulcans do not show up to private dates in uniform,” Spock said as he lifted one eyebrow. “This is a date, is it not?” He took a few steps toward Leonard but didn’t eye him too closely. “You, a non-family member, groomed me socially, allowed me to groom you, accepted a gift of fruit, and--”

Len held his finger up. “Hey now, I didn’t know what the fruit meant, and I certainly didn’t know what eating it with my hands meant.”

Spock just continued on. “And you did not opt for a protective barrier when performing a medical procedure on my hands earlier.” He lifted a brow when Leonard opened his mouth to interject again. “After which, you did not pull your hand away. While I was able to keep my shields up and did not encroach on your privacy, that act--even by human standards--is intimate.”

Len didn’t know what to say, so he just finished dressing so he could stumble out into the living space and face Spock. His mouth usually worked faster than his brain anyway, and Spock did say he preferred direct communication. “Can we stop talkin’ and get to the date part?”

Spock let out a breath that looked and sounded longer than a normal one, as if he’d been holding it. “I would be amenable to that.”

“So, what’s on the menu and how can I help? ‘Cause I’m helpin’, Vulcan custom or not.” Len eyed the bag of ingredients and then his kitchen, modest even by dorm room standards, and wondered what the heck Spock was going to put together and how.

The two got into a good rhythm of making a home-cooked southern meal that was completely vegan. Len had his doubts on how it could compare to his home cooking, but the meal couldn’t be worse than what he could do on his own with the synthesizer. After popping the “chicken” into the small oven to bake, Len sat down at the kitchen table and nudged the chair next to him.

“How did you know how to whip up a southern style chicken and dumplings? And make it _vegan_?”

Spock sat down in the offered chair and turned to face Leonard. “I must confess, I have been planning this courtship for 2.6 standard months. I had no intention of starting it until I was certain of your feelings.”

“And you felt certain when I stupidly fixed your hair last night.”

Spock nodded. “I did not have my shields up as strongly as I would in a more social setting. I was not expecting your touch and… I apologize, Leonard, but I felt your affections, and they were not platonic.”

Len blushed and scooted his chair closer in an effort to appear braver than he felt. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’m just glad you weren’t offended by it. I really like you, Spock, as a friend and more, but I _definitely_ did not want to screw up because I was too human for you.”

“Leonard, I assure you that the only time I remotely question your devotion to our friendship is when you call me ‘hobgoblin’ or ‘pointy-eared bastard.'”

Len flushed quickly but rolled up his sleeve and offered his forearm for Spock to grab onto. “You wanna know how I feel when I say those things?”

Spock did, and Leonard showed him.

Spock _did_ blush (Len had made sure the lighting was good this time, before they started working in the kitchen), and he thought he saw a sparkle in those warm brown eyes. “Yeah, you hobgoblin, soak it up. This southern boy’s got a soft spot for ya.” Only he felt a brief squeeze from the hand on his arm? Tension? He looked down to see the hand gripping him differently from the fond drape from before. Len almost missed it, almost blazed right through but he somehow managed to catch it. “What’s wrong, Spock?”

“You are aware that my mother, and by extension myself, are Jewish, correct?” Spock said stiffly. Well, stiffer than he normally would. Len nodded in response. “Are you also aware that the terms ‘goblin’ and ‘hobgoblin’ have been used for centuries as a slur against Jewish people?” Len’s eyes went wide and he was about to apologize but Spock stopped him again. “While I did not suspect you were using the slur intentionally, and I know the fondness in which you speak those slurs, it does not change the history of them.”

“I won’t use ‘em again Spock, I’m sorry. Does bastard bother you, too?” Len didn’t need to hear Spock’s response to that to know it. “Alright, thank you for tellin’ me Spock. I wish I’d have known earlier, no wonder our relationship up ‘til now has been rough.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up into those beautiful brown eyes again, which weren’t upset in the slightest.

Spock gave the briefest of smiles. “I believe you were about to make another statement, prior to the discussion of slurs. I wish to hear it, Leonard.”

“Oh, right!” Leonard took a breath and although his eye contact faltered, he pulled himself up by his metaphorical britches and forced himself to be strong. “Now I don’t want to take you home to momma just yet, but since we’re being direct here, I _want_ this to be the kind of relationship where I take you home to my momma.”

Len was briefly worried that the discussion of moms would hurt Spock, but the two of them--both very clearly momma’s boys--had often talked about their mothers. His thought spiral was interrupted by a hand squeezing his arm, which also reminded him that the two were still connected and his emotions were getting transferred. “Ah, sorry, Spock.”

“If I did not want this, I would have removed my hand after your display. I, too, wish to start a relationship in which I may bring you home to my father.”

Completely avoiding the latter part of that sentence, because meeting Sarek in this context _absolutely terrified him_ , Len latched onto the more exciting part. “Right. I… Does it work both ways?” Len looked up as he asked the question.

In response, Spock lifted his hand and held out his pointer and middle finger. “This is the ozh'esta. While not a direct analog, it has been called the 'Vulcan kiss' by humans who have witnessed and experienced it.”

Leonard was wary. He'd seen Nyota and Spock perform this action subtly numerous times and he was again nervous that he’d somehow screw it up. Pressing his fingers to Spock’s, he felt a rush of affection, mixed with relief, and some other things that he couldn’t quite recognize.

“It is easy to recognize the feelings that you, yourself, have felt,” Spock commented.

“Yeah? So… What else are you feelin’? And don’t gimme that “Vulcans don’t feel” crap, it’s obvious that you _do_.”

“I feel--” _Oh, Spock doesn’t like using that word._ “Leonard.”

“Sorry.”

“I feel a sense of longing that I cannot explain,” Spock finished.

Leonard’s brows furrowed and he could feel Spock reacting to that confusion. “How long’ve you been longing?”

“I believe it’s been since Altamid. Since--”

“Since you nearly died.”

“Precisely. My regard for you started small, but grew.” At this, Spock pulled back some of his surface emotions to let Leonard feel what he was talking about. “Then, when you groomed me last night, I couldn’t stop this _feeling_. I didn’t want to.”

 _Shit, am I the reason he and Nyota broke up?_ Len thought, only to be sent with what felt like amusement, shooting through his fingers and going straight for his heart.

“Nyota and I didn’t work for the same reason we didn’t work before Altamid. You are not at fault.”

“Well, if it wasn’t that, what was it?” Len could feel the unease blooming behind Spock’s fingers and started to pull back, but those fingers suddenly wrapped around his to lock him in place.

“It is human custom to discuss past relationships in order to foster healthier future ones, is it not?” Leonard nodded, and Spock continued. “I wish to maintain Nyota’s privacy, but I also do not want to develop a relationship without discussing our irreconcilable disagreement.”

“Spock, just cut to the chase. What is it?”

“I will need to sire children in order to assist in the repopulation efforts of my species.” The unease turned into a tidal wave that nearly sent Leonard toppling over. “I will have little choice in the matter.”

Len waved it off. “I like kids, I have a kid, it’s fine. I think you’d be a great dad. I’ve actually been wanting to look into developing techniques to make it easier on childbearing Vulcans, but there’s so much red tape whenever you try to ‘play God’, even from Vulcans.” _Determination._

“The rejection you experience from Vulcans is not because you are attempting to ‘play God’, it is merely because you are human. Perhaps my father could be of assistance. I am sure he would be an advocate on our behalf, considering my own conception and birth required substantial medical intervention.” _Acceptance, gratitude._

“Yeah, pointy, causing us poor humans loads of trouble since even before day one.” _Affection, amusement._

They stared at their connected hands in silence as they repeatedly passed their emotions back and forth, with Leonard getting bolder (and cheekier) as his skill at sending and interpreting them increased. Spock, from what Leonard felt, was impressed and surprised by what Leonard had been able to do. It made sense, Len was nearly psi-null, after all.

When the timer went off, the two men reluctantly released their connection and made their way to the kitchen, managing to brush shoulders and arms and hips. Len got the plates, Spock took the food out of the oven, and they plated each other’s food.

“You know, Leonard, I am supposed to be the one serving you a meal. I am your guest.”

“Well y’know, Spock, we might not have said the words and I don’t quite know what to call us, but I’m _sure_ that you are no mere guest here. So let me make you a plate.”

Spock let Leonard have his way and soon they were back to the kitchen table with their elbows brushing, Len on the right, Spock on the left. While it was a little awkward to eat with one hand, they managed to keep their pinkies touching loosely for most of the meal, so it was worth it. Len couldn’t feel as much as he could before, but he did know that Spock was enjoying himself.

For his part, Leonard was pleasantly surprised that the food tasted excellent and he had a hard time telling the difference between the vegan chicken and real chicken. It made him unbelievably happy to know that Spock had gone to these lengths to make him feel wanted, although he was unsure of how he could possibly come up with something even remotely comparable.

Spock wrapped his pinkie around Len’s and then stroked it with his ring finger. _Crap, he heard me._ “Leonard, the fact that you--as private as you are--are allowing me near constant contact with your emotions is more than enough.”

Len blushed. “Yeah, well, I still want to do somethin’. You oughta send me a recipe that you like and I’ll try and figure out how to make it.”

“I must make another confession.”

 _Oh, this just got interesting_. “And what's that?”

Spock cleared his throat, set his fork down, and moved his hands to his lap, letting go of Leonard’s in the process. Len jerked his hand forward and grabbed Spock’s hand back without thinking, but immediately released it. Spock actually chuckled. Or, well, the Vulcan version of a chuckle - he huffed twice in a row.

“You are aware that my counterpart had been living on New Vulcan until he died, correct?” Leonard nodded. “He was able to convince the elders to allow me to stay aboard the Enterprise despite the repopulation efforts. At first I thought this action was due to him wanting my friendship with Jim to flourish, but it soon became clear that it was not only the relationship with Jim that he desired to see repeated in this timeline.”

“How do you mean?”

“His tactics were subtle but insistent. While he often requested updates on the bridge crew, it was you and Jim that he desired to hear about most. I again thought this was due to friendship, but I was mistaken. I do not know what transpired between our counterparts in the other reality, but I do know that his Leonard was special to him in a way that his Jim was not.”

  
Leonard swallowed hard and nodded. “And how do you figure that?”

“He included the recipe for vegan southern style chicken and dumplings in the items he left to me upon his death.”

Len chuckled, but didn’t say anything as he cleared the plates. He returned to the table with his arms crossed and turned around to lean on it, facing Spock. “So, Spock, are there any after-dinner Vulcan customs?”

“None that would be acceptable given our current level of intimacy.”

Len pouted. “Well, that’s no fun.”

“Indeed, but I do not wish to hasten this courtship.”

Leonard grinned. “You just agreed that it’d be no fun.”

In response, Spock reached out and touched Leonard’s forearm again and he felt the mirth filter through, although not as strong as when they held hands. “I did.”

“It’s probably for the best. I didn’t even know I liked ya in this way until today.” Leonard wiggled the arm Spock wasn’t holding out from under the other and reached up to rub the back of his own head. “I’m not very good at this whole feelings thing when it comes to people.”

“But you are so emotional, doctor. I was under the assumption that this would be second nature to you.” _Oh, Spock’s definitely teasing. Cheeky bastard._

“Hah, good one, hob--you…elf?” Len carefully thought over his words and set his hand on top of Spock’s to ensure that even if he got them wrong, the emotions behind them would still get through. The change appeared to be satisfactory, thankfully. “When it comes to other people, I tend to go along with whatever they want. Outside of work, that is. Y’know, personally. Oh, and you know I complain the whole way, but I still go through with it.”

“You are fond of complaining, Leonard.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut it. Anyway. I’ve only been in two relationships and only because two pretty brunettes demanded I take ‘em on a date.” Leonard took another calming breath and wished he had a drink. “You know how the first one ended. Joss and me weren’t good for each other, even if we made the cutest damn kid in the universe.”

Spock nodded. “Leonard, I sense your discomfort at this topic. I assure you,” he emphasized this with a larger stream of affection, “you need not worry yourself. I am perfectly content with where we stand.”

Leonard shook his head and patted Spock’s hand. “I know, I know, Spock. But let me finish, I’ve got a point to make.” He took another steadying breath. “My second relationship ended before it had a chance to really begin. And don’t you dare repeat this, _especially_ to Jim.” Len waited until he felt a squeeze from Spock’s hand and saw a nod. “Cap--Admiral Pike and I met at the Academy and we had a few dates, but agreed it’d be inappropriate to start a relationship. I worked my ass off to get assigned to the same ship as him and we were supposed to start a relationship when I became a senior officer. Then…”

“Then the Nero incident happened. Followed shortly thereafter by Khan.” Spock must have sensed that Leonard was starting to lose it because the Vulcan stood up and pulled him into a hug. “Leonard, you did not need to tell me this, but I thank you for it.”

“After the five year mission, I was gonna teach at the Academy with Chris, probably move in together.” Leonard hugged Spock back, which was awkward given his position on the table. “And I need to tell you this because those two relationships shaped me, an’ I don’t want to screw this up with you or wait too long.”

Spock drew back a little and brushed Leonard’s hair back before kissing him on the forehead. “As you’ve said forty-eight times since we left Starbase Yorktown, you are stuck on this ‘tin can’ with me. Given the extension to our five-year mission, you are stuck with me for approximately--”

“You better round.”

“--Two more standard years.” Spock pulled away to look Leonard in the eyes again. “I promise you that we will survive ‘taking it slow.' I am also shaped by my past experiences and while Nyota was my only long-term relationship, all of my relationships failed because we did not take time to properly discuss our motives and expectations and analyze the early stages of attachment.”

“OK, so, do you wanna do that now?” Leonard asked as he idly tapped his stocking over Spock’s shoes. He was quite proud of himself for remembering to put on socks earlier, even if he forgot the shoes.

Spock took a step back from Leonard and removed his hands. “No, we both need time to properly assess our own needs before we can properly have that conversation. I would much rather indulge in the human custom of watching a holo with you.”

Leonard lifted a brow and crossed his arms in disbelief. “Oh, yeah? That really what you want to do? I thought Vulcans couldn’t lie.”

“Vulcans can lie, we just do not often see the need for it when logic is superior to manipulation.”

“That was an impressive deflection, Spock.”

Spock’s ears started to turn a lovely shade of bronze and his hand twitched. “Leonard…”

“Yeah, Spock?” Leonard asked as he pushed himself off the table and walked closer to Spock, his arms still crossed.

“You are human--”

“And you’re Vulcan, so let’s meet in the middle, hm? You play chess weekly with Jim, and I’ve never seen y’all watch a holo together unless it was some ancient battle analysis that I have _negative_ interest in.” Leonard tapped his own chin and leaned his head back in thought. “How ‘bout you read some medical articles and we can argue about them on the couch?”

“I would be amenable to that.”

They both ended up enjoying themselves, playfully discussing each paper until late into the artificial night. Eventually, though, Leonard’s human stamina was catching up to him, and the two parted so that he could go to bed. They planned on repeating this often, so Len wasn’t worried about missing anything by going to sleep. He needed to keep his edge, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim finally catches on, then gets kicked out. A short finale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for joining me on my very first multi-chapter Trek fic! I hope this last chapter is as enjoyable to read as it was to write. <3
> 
> I also want to mention that I edited the previous chapter to address a word that's often used negatively against Jewish people. While our good doctor means it all in good fun, it does make many readers, particularly Jewish readers, uncomfortable and needed to be address.

A new routine was established between Leonard, Spock, and Jim. While the weekly chess matches continued, Len switched to a method of distraction that didn’t leave him looking like a bumbling fool. Instead he found a tactic that nearly doubled Jim’s win percentage, and had the added benefit of a _thorough_ ‘chastising’ afterward. He’d taken to eating the properly replicated peaches by hand and occasionally offering a slice to Jim or Spock.

Len also made sure to lick his fingers clean when he was done, which always caused Spock’s nostrils to flare ever so slightly. If Jim noticed, he didn’t say anything, and it wasn’t like it was happening directly in front of him. Leonard tried to save his more flirtatious actions for when he was hovering behind Jim. It was more fun that way.

In addition to chess, Jim took it upon himself to join their medical debates once per week. He sometimes had contributions, but he mostly spent his time playing a referee with commentary worthy of a 20th century wrestling match. It only took Jim two sessions to realize what was happening.

Jim slammed his hands on the table he sat at with Len, causing Spock to move closer to Leonard and stand alert. “Oh my god, this is foreplay for you two, isn’t it?!” Jim exclaimed.

Leonard leaned back in his chair, tilted back his head, and laughed until his eyes started to water.

Jim smacked him on the chest. “Hey, your captain asked you a question!”

Spock put a hand on the back of Leonard’s chair, likely to stop Len from leaning too far. “Yes, Jim, this is our method of connecting emotionally. Although--”

“It’s not foreplay. Now, what I do on chess night _is_ foreplay,” Len finished. He knew Spock wouldn’t tell their friend that much, and he wanted to see their friend’s reaction.

“...What do you do on chess night? I thought Spock was just distracted because he likes you. Were you actually doing things? Oh my god, it’s the peaches, isn’t it? Goddamn peaches.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining when you were tellin’ me all about how much Spock’s been losing lately.”

Spock interjected, of course. “Need I remind you, Captain, that my win percentage is still far superior to yours.”

Jim waved his hand. “Yeah, whatever, you’ve been losing _more_ and that’s the metric that counts.”

Before Spock could volley back, Len cut in by wrapping his arms around Spock’s waist and resting his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Jim, I think we’ve had enough fun for the evening if you want to git along back to your quarters, now.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “You know, this is the first time you’ve kicked _me_ out so you can--” he waggled his fingers in the couple’s general direction “--do stuff. I’ll let you have it.”

“What are you, five?” Leonard questioned. “And I’ve kicked you out a few times. This ain’t the first.”

“You’ve only kicked me out of the room when you had a patient or you had a meeting with one of the brass." He paused. "…One of the brass...” Jim was very clearly thinking hard, and it looked like he was on the verge of a discovery, which made Leonard nervous.

“Hey, Spock? Nerve pinch our captain, will ya? Doctor’s orders.”

“Yes, doctor.”

At that, Jim just grinned and gave a mocking salute before dashing for the door and escaping. “Night!”

Leonard gave a halfhearted wave before moving around Spock and resting his forehead against his shoulder. “If he brings it up again, I’m going to mutiny.”

“I will inform the captain that you do not wish to discuss the topic. Perhaps threatening him with a hypospray would be a sufficient deterrent.”

“I like your style, Spock,” Len said, a tad lasciviously, as both of his hands reached for Spock’s.

Spock laced their fingers together, took a step back in order to make eye contact, and brought Leonard’s knuckles to his chin. He kissed most of Len’s fingers slowly, softly, and deliberately. “The evening ended early, but I do not wish to part from you just yet, Leonard.”

Len grinned. “I _really_ like your style, Spock.”

**Author's Note:**

> Extra special thanks to PrairieDawn, MagikLiz, and TokiMudkip for betaing! Y'all are wonderful!


End file.
